the keeper's cottage · day 543 · afternoon

Afternoon rain and the supply boat's delay

Steady rain hammers the cottage roof. The barometer holds at 977 hPa. A letter from the trust sits on the table — boat delayed two days, engine trouble. Kevin is at the table with dock sketches. Jenny is on the porch bench, ankle propped, seed tin in her lap, vinegar and cloth ready. The dinghy pitches at its mooring. The dock groans under the swell.

The warm rain continues to fall in cycles, drumming against the tin roof of the cottage as the air grows heavy. Jenny sits on the porch bench, her leg propped on a crate, her face pale from the effort of staying still while Kevin watches the tide recede from the dock, knowing the steady barometer pressure is a deceptive calm before the storm that could delay the supply boat's arrival.

🌿 Jenny07:35

I'm fine, Kevin. Just a bit of heat from the rain.

Jenny lifts the vinegar-soaked cloth and presses it to her swollen ankle, wincing as the throb spikes.

💭 peek at the thought

The red line is moving past the bone. If the boat doesn't come tomorrow, I won't be able to walk to the spring, let alone plant the seeds.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin07:35

Heat from rain doesn't make a person wince like that.

Set the mug down, push back from the table, and walk over to the porch bench where she's sitting.

💭 peek at the thought

She's lying through her teeth and we both know it. That wince wasn't heat from rain. The infection's tracking and she's too stubborn to admit it.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny07:37

It's just the humidity. The skin is tight today.

Jenny pulls the seed tin closer to her chest, shielding the ankle from his view.

💭 peek at the thought

He's going to see it. He's going to see the red line and realize I'm falling apart.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin07:37

Humidity doesn't swell an ankle past a brace. Take the bandage off.

Stand at the edge of the porch, arms crossed, not moving closer but not leaving either.

💭 peek at the thought

She's protecting the ankle like it's a secret. The swelling's past the brace line — I saw it when she hauled limpets yesterday. Humidity doesn't do that.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny07:39

I can handle it. The boat is coming tomorrow anyway.

Jenny tightens her grip on the metal seed tin, her Analysis white, as she avoids his eyes.

💭 peek at the thought

If I take it off, he'll see the infection. He'll see I'm a liability.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin07:39

The boat was coming tomorrow eleven months ago. Take it off.

Step onto the porch boards, close the distance, and crouch down so I'm level with the ankle — not towering over her.

💭 peek at the thought

The boat's been "coming tomorrow" for eleven months. She knows that. She's using it to shut me down.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny07:41

It's just... it's nothing. I'm tired.

Jenny slowly lets the seed tin slide to the bench, her hands trembling as she reaches for the edge of the bandage.

💭 peek at the thought

He's going to see the red line. He's going to see how far it's gone.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin07:41

I know you're tired. Let me see.

Rest my forearms on my knees, wait steady, not reaching for her hands but close enough to take over the moment she lets go.

💭 peek at the thought

The trembling isn't tiredness. It's fear — of what we'll both see under that wrap. She's never let me this close to an injury before.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny07:43

It's just a scratch, Kevin.

Jenny breathes through a sharp hiss as she peels the fabric away, exposing the angry, angry red line climbing up her shin.

💭 peek at the thought

If he sees it, he'll call the boat. He'll make me leave the island.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin07:43

That's tracking. We're past poultices and oral doses.

Reach for the first aid kit on the porch shelf, pull out the antibiotic blister packs — doxycycline and metronidazole — count what's left.

💭 peek at the thought

That's not a scratch. That's a red line tracking toward her knee — lymphangitis. The antibiotics we started aren't holding it. She needs IVs, a doctor, a mainland hospital. The supply boat's two days out at best, and that's if it actually shows.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny07:45

I have enough. I just need to rest.

Jenny pulls her leg back, the throbbing pulsing in time with the rain on the roof.

💭 peek at the thought

Four doses left. That's not enough if the boat doesn't show up tomorrow.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin07:45

You don't have enough. The line's at your knee by morning.

Put the blister packs back in the kit, snap it shut, and sit back on my heels — staying, not leaving.

💭 peek at the thought

Four doses of doxycycline left. Five metronidazole. That's two days, maybe three, if the infection doesn't accelerate. The red line's already past mid-calf. She's not getting IVs here. The only way off this island is the dinghy, and the swell's running hard enough to swamp us at the dock. The supply boat's two days out — if it comes. She's not getting on that dinghy in this state unless I make her. And I can't make her. She's stronger than me in the ways that matter.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.